


For All the Years to Come

by gentlezombie



Category: Keskilinnan Ritarit - J. S. Meresmaa
Genre: Action, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, D/s undertones, Drama, Established Relationship, Fake Marriage, M/M, Other, Politics, Repressive Society, Romance, Sex, Slow Build, Worldbuilding, Yuletide 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlezombie/pseuds/gentlezombie
Summary: Jehrem and Konno have settled in Surro to start a new life together. But political intrigue comes calling, and the Second Queen’s wishes are not to be denied. They are sent to the faraway kingdom of Fallcastle to prevent a threat to the throne. Their cover story? That of a married couple. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Jehrem Kovdas/Konno Nasovalainen (Keskilinnan Ritarit - J. S. Meresmaa)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	For All the Years to Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syksy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syksy/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Syksy ♥ May they be full of light and life.

_The most beautiful thing about love is surrender._

JEHREM

I believed I had chosen my moment well. We were both happy and mellow after a lazy morning in bed, drinking the sweet herb brew Konno’s sister makes. I should have known my plans would get me in trouble. His eyes, the colour of Surro blue, are flashing lightning at me over the kitchen table.

“Tell me one more time just how you managed to get mixed up in Midcastle politics, despite swearing to me that you had left all their scheming and games behind. And do tell why I’m involved!”

I wince inwardly. Konno doesn’t like me not telling him things, while bending and smoothing out the truth is second nature to me. After a lifetime of learning, it is a difficult habit to break.

“Second Queen Serenna was quite insistent. And you know I can’t exactly deny her anything.” I omit the ‘we’, but it is there anyway. Without the Queen’s favour, we would never have been able to build a new life for ourselves in Surro. We might not be alive at all. “Well, I wouldn’t volunteer to mind her kerebis, not for all the jewels in the kingdom.”

“You did so well last time,” Konno says with a straight face, but I can hear his smirk. The bite scar the little beast left on my sword hand refuses to fade. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. He is letting go of his anger, hearing me out.

“The Queen seems to think I am her knight now, albeit one without a title.” I shrug. “And it’s not like I have anything better to do. You have your hands full rearing kurvos and training the stablehands. There’s less opportunities for hired swords in times of peace. The Gentle Mother has ensured I am out of work, bless her.”

“You’re more than your sword,” Konno says, as I expected he would. I grin. He is still so easy sometimes.

“Are you sure? I think you’re quite fond of it.”

“Don’t start this,” he warns me. “Or it’ll lead to places you don’t want to go.”

“Oh, I think I do,” I say and cover his fisted hand with mine. He grabs my hand, his thumb digging into the hollow between thumb and forefinger where the scar still smarts.

“I know what you’re doing, Jehrem. Don’t try to distract me.” That look is back, the one that tells me trouble is brewing. It sends a shiver down my spine. “You know what I meant. ‘One can take away a knight’s sword but never his mind.’ You’ve still got both. You could do anything.”

“That’s why I have to do this, don’t you see? All that I have is thanks to the Queen. And this is exactly the kind of task I’m suited for. Sword and mind.” It’s more true than I would like it to be. My life has changed so much that the allure of something familiar is strong.

Konno gives me a sharp look. “Are you bored here?”

There is more to the question, a hint of uncertainty I don’t like. I could never be bored of _him_. The denial is on my tongue when I see the opportunity before me. I turn my gaze deliberately slowly to look out the window to the empty street.

“Surro is quiet this time of the year.”

Konno’s fingers dig into my jaw and force me to face him. The mix of anger and hunger I see in his eyes is intoxicating. My heartbeat is already faster, my body has learned to follow his lead in anticipation of pleasure.

“I better make sure you’re not bored, then,” he says. The words are as biting as his kiss.

The leather of his belt leaves bruises around my wrists as he makes me shout and curse and forget my own name.

First gamble won.

KONNO

Second Queen Serenna is in need of envoys to attend her cousin’s wedding celebration. At least she was. She has us now. I don’t understand how Jehrem managed to talk me into this. But here we are on the road, my kurvos left in the care of my most capable stablehand.

We are to travel to the kingdom of Fallcastle in the east to deliver the Queen’s well-wishes and delicate correspondence to her cousin Arretta of Nevia who is getting married. And that is where things get complicated.

“She’s getting married to a woman,” I say, feeling like a wooden wind-up toy repeating the same routine.

Jehrem gives me an amused look. “Yes, Konno, unless her bride Irula has managed to grow a cock overnight. Which I doubt, capable as she must be.”

I have never thought about women loving other women. To be honest, I don’t think about them much. Now I feel stupid for my naivety. Why wouldn’t they get up to the same things we do? Why wouldn’t they fall in love?

“But getting married? Is that even allowed?”

“In Fallcastle it is,” Jehrem says. “Their Widow Queen Esfir is of the opinion that laws should not cause undue misery to her subjects. And happily married people are less likely to cause havoc in the kingdom.”

It makes a kind of sense, but I have trouble wrapping my mind around the idea. Knowing that this is possible in one part of the world makes something inside me ache. I glance at Jehrem and marvel at the easy grace with which he handles his kurvo. The sun has touched his face, his fair hair is messed up by the wind. A wave of tenderness that is close to pain washes over me.

“So she wanted open-minded messengers. But what in the name of the Mother is the point of this charade?”

Jehrem has explained it to me, of course. Several times, with greater patience than usual. It is a custom in Fallcastle that only married couples attend wedding ceremonies. It has something to do with their Twin Goddess and the number two being the holy symbol of growth. Or that’s what I have gathered.

It’s not only women who can get married to each other there.

Now I have a forged marriage certificate with the Midcastle seal in the inside pocket of my tunic, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Jehrem visited a discreet scribe in the capital and got them for both of us. The text at the top does not differ that much from the documents I saw while working in the town archives in Surro. But underneath are our names written in green ink. Konno of Nasova and Jehrem Kovdas. Like they belong together.

JEHREM

It took quite a bit of convincing to get Konno to follow along with this plan. I didn’t resort to blackmail, but bribery of sorts was most definitely involved. I glance at his dark form, trudging resolutely along on his mount. He is still not too happy about this. After I explained the true reason for our mission, he became much more amenable, though I know our cover story doesn’t sit easy with him.

Second Queen Serenna suspects foul play at the court of Fallcastle. There are factions which do not support Queen Esfir’s rule. In Midcastle, the dissidents would have been murdered long ago. Apparently, this is not her way. A part of me thinks it’s admirable; another part finds it very unwise. I’ve been looking out for threats to the crown for so long that it’s become second nature. And Queen Esfir is to grace this wedding ceremony with her presence. Should something unfortunate befall her at Arretta and Irula’s wedding, they might be held accountable. Disgrace or exile are the lightest possible repercussions. Serenna is rightly concerned for her cousin.

Still, I think she and Katynka found undue joy in our cover story. They know Konno and I are lovers. I suspect Serenna saw the truth on that ill-fated trip two years ago. And I would have to be blind not to see the ease and affection between the Queen and her bodyguard. Besides, Katynka must be in love to tolerate that pest of a pet Serenna insists on keeping.

I tried to tell them I had no wish to involve Konno in these games ever again, but Queen Serenna’s will is like a force of nature. One might as well try to stop the tide.

“It will be an easy task for you, Kovdas,” she said with an impish smile. “You will not even have to act. Why, I thought you two might find it pleasant.”

I could not exactly disagree with her, but I had my doubts. “Pretending to be married is one thing, but stepping into a den of vipers and assassins is another. I have no wish to bring Konno there.”

“You should ask him,” Katynka said. She rarely interrupted anything, so she immediately had my attention. “I think you underestimate him.”

I stared at her, taken by surprise. “I think the world of him.”

“You are still afraid.” She drank her tea peacefully, her sword leaning against the wall within reach.

“Of course I am!” I said with more heat than intended. “I almost lost him last time.” The image of Konno, lying pale and cold on the beach, still haunts me.

She hummed, blowing at her tea. “And he had to break you out of the Midcastle dungeons, poisoned and half-dead. How many falls have you taken for him?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” I snapped, though I had a sinking feeling she was going to win this one.

“He has at least as much reason to be afraid for you. But he is strong enough to deal with it. In this matter, I think you should talk to him. See what he has to say.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Katynka, you are a dangerous woman.”

“I like to think so,” she said simply. Then she glanced at Serenna, remembering to seek her approval. That she took such liberties without hesitation told me much.

“Thank you, Katynka,” Queen Serenna said, her voice pleased, and turned to me. “This task demands discretion and a certain mindset which none of my other envoys possess. You will be well-compensated for your trouble, of course. I understand that starting a stable is an expensive business. And I do not believe you get many opportunities like this.” She gave me a look, hard as a gemstone.

I was again reminded of what we owed her. How little our lives weighed against her will. I knew I would be involved in this whether I wanted to or not. Like the knight I wasn’t anymore, I swore I would make the most of it.

KONNO

We arrive at Fallcastle the day before the festivities. I try not to gape like a country boy, but the difference to Midcastle is striking. Midcastle is all grey stone and stark lines, orderly and sensible. Fallcastle folds out like a sprawling market, the red brick walls more for show than defence. Most of the houses spread like a fan outside the walls.

At least they have guards at the gates. They ask about the purpose of our visit, clearly curious about our outlandish looks.

“Jehrem Kovdas and Konno of Nasova,” Jehrem says easily. “Come to attend the wedding of Arretta of Nevia and Irula, daughter of Kerem, on behalf of Second Queen Serenna of Midcastle.” His handle on etiquette is flawless when he wants it to be. I can’t help but feel a spark of pride.

The younger guard relaxes and smiles. “Then let us see your papers, and you can get settled.”

Jehrem shows him the real invitation Serenna gave us as well as the forged marriage certificate. He urges me to do the same. Clearly this is the done thing. He and the guards were both expecting it. The wind tugs at the papers as I dig them out of my pocket, and I crush them a little as I hold on to them. I try to keep my face blank as I hand the document over. The guard glances at it impassively, then gives it back to me.

“Everything seems to be in order. Welcome to Fallcastle.”

He steps aside to let us lead our kurvos into the city. I realise how tense I am as the kurvo sidesteps irritably under me. I take a deep breath and make a conscious effort to calm down. The warmth of Jehrem’s hand on the small of my back is a shock.

“Take it easy,” he says in a low voice. “We’re not in Surro anymore. No one is going to judge you. Come on, take a look around. Fallcastle is not something you see every day.”

His fingers rub circles through my tunic, soothing and steady.

“I know that,” I mutter, though apparently my body has trouble realising it. Only now do I understand how on alert I always am at home.

The inner city of Fallcastle is built on a hill. The houses seem to have sprung up in no particular order. If anyone planned this, I don’t understand their design. The facades are painted blue and orange, bright in the late autumn light. The doors are marked with painted symbols – marks of profession or family? I’ll have to ask Jehrem. The cobblestoned streets are narrow and winding, decorated by rows of lanterns strung up for the occasion. I imagine they will sparkle like glimmerflies when they are lit for the night.

Although the city is sure to give a map-maker headache, after a while I get a sense of our bearings. The streets all lead up the hill, towards a circle free of the clutches of houses. I can make out greenery and a flash of a silver roof. I stand up in the stirrups to see more of the garden.

I glare at Jehrem as he laughs at me.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“You like being right too much,” I say, but I can’t deny the charm of this place. The smells from the food-sellers whiff up to my nose – unfamiliar spices and fruits – and my stomach grumbles loudly.

“We have a lot in common. Ah, here we are.” Jehrem points at a large, two-storied building. It looks more like a painting than a house with its strange facade. The Twin Goddess is depicted there with her shadowed faces and double-crowns. Fields and waters flow from the exaggerated curves of her body. Bloated fish and ripe fruit cling to the hem of the house like a strange necklace.

“What is that?” I say, blinking. On the way I saw several houses with facades advertising their trade. “It can’t be a temple.” The mural is striking for sure, but there’s something gaudy about it, mysteries turned into earthly things. No one would ever paint the Gentle Mother like that. There is no need to picture her. She is, and that’s all.

“A temple for the body and spirit,” Jehrem says with a straight face. Then he breaks and grins. “That’s the _Gifts of the Goddess_. One of the better inns in the upper city.”

“You could have told me,” I say and swat at his arm.

“You didn’t ask.” He sounds innocent, but I see the mischief in his eyes. He wanted to see my reaction, the scoundrel. I swear to make him pay for that.

My mood is mellowed when we get inside and he rents us a room for two with one bed, no questions asked.

“We would like to rest after our travels,” Jehrem says, seeking my eyes. I nod belatedly. “Can you have zeokin wine and something to eat brought to us? My husband has never had the pleasure of tasting Fallcastle wines.”

I’m glad Jehrem is handling the conversation. I would be tripping over my tongue. How is this so easy to him?

“Of course,” the innkeeper says. “That must be fixed at once. We happen to have a very good vintage…”

Once inside our room, Jehrem sinks on the bed, suddenly looking exhausted. “Well, that was something.”

He is usually much more eloquent than this. I sit beside him. I have no words for what I am feeling. He declared that he was mine at the city gates. Touched me on the street like his hands belonged on my skin. And downstairs the innkeeper all but assumed we were together.

“You called me husband,” I say finally. It comes out rougher than expected.

He gives me a careful look, one that tells me he is assessing possible outcomes. Once it would have been hard to read. I know he is on the verge of telling me we must practice this piece of theatre for tomorrow. I see him deciding against it.

“And how did you like it?”

Something dark and sweet rises in me. For the first time that day there is no hesitation in my smile.

“I liked it well enough.”

I am about to reach for him when there is a knock at the door. I curse silently, but the strain in Jehrem’s voice is gratifying as he answers the call. It’s a servant, of course, come to bring us the food and wine. After he is gone, Jehrem pours us both a glass.

“You should try it,” he says, as if things like wine were important at all. But he looks at me with his playful brown eyes, the cares of the road banished for now, and I give in. Jehrem sits down beside me, his thigh warm against mine through the layers of clothes. He hands me a glass. The amber wine smells bittersweet and pleasant, but what does that matter when I can smell him, sweat and grass and road dust, far more appealing than any drink? His hand is on my thigh, strong fingers playing with a frayed patch on my trousers.

“Konno, you’re supposed to drink it,” he purrs.

I take a hold of his shoulder and swing around to straddle him. The wine sloshes dangerously in my glass. I capture his eyes as I take a sip of the wine, get a hold of his hair and lean in to kiss him. He is watching me with half-closed eyes, light eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. His mouth opens eagerly under mine as I make him drink, taste me, take me. His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries blindly to push my tunic off my shoulders. We are both hard and wanting, the desire between us spiralling out of our control. No force in the world can stop it.

Except the sound of shattering glass.

We stare at each other. Jehrem lets out a string of curses that would make any dockhand proud. His glass has hit one of the rare bare patches of stone floor. Fruit wine is soaking the heavy carpet. We can already hear hurried footsteps in the hallway.

I get off him and smooth out his hair. He pulls my clothes to a more respectable order, reluctance written all over him.

“You could have just said no,” I say as we wait, bare feet propped up on the bed. “No need to be so dramatic.”

His mouth twitches. Soon we are both laughing like lunatics at the absurdity of this. Her Majesty’s most secret servants, huddling on the bed like ill-behaved children! The boy who comes to clean up the mess doesn’t share our mirth. I placate him with a coin from our travelling funds. I doubt they were intended for this purpose.

Sweet Mother, I can’t wait for this mission to be over. Jehrem is right there, and we keep declaring our relationship to all and sundry, yet I still can’t manage to have him.

JEHREM

The coloured glass of the lanterns casts butterfly-wing shadows on the garden path. The celebrations are almost upon us. Konno and I are among the throng of guests following the pearl-lined path to the festive pavilion at the top of the hill. I see possible hazards all around us – bad lighting, an open space, sparse guards posted along the path. I feel an itch between my shoulder blades. Despite the guard points we passed, a tsinsin assassin would make short work of any target in these circumstances.

“That frown doesn’t go with your clothes,” Konno tells me. He slips his hand into mine, slender but strong fingers offering reassurance. He still hasn’t grown used to public displays of affection. The simple gesture is enough to bring colour to my face. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Are you telling me I’m old?” I say, feigning hurt.

“Things have been quiet lately, if you know what I mean.” Though I can feel how tense and out of his element he is, there’s still that mischievous spark. It makes me feel much better about bringing him along. The change of scenery has done us both good.

“You might have to convince me otherwise,” he says.

Oh, how I would love to – but it will have to wait. Only for tonight, until this mission is over. I never thought I could be this distracted by any man, let alone someone safe and familiar. But then I never expected to have someone like him. Someone as beautiful, body and spirit.

This is not helping.

“Why, husband, I hope you are not suggesting anything improper,” I retaliate and wrap an arm around his waist. He glances at me but doesn’t falter. I have to give it to him, he has taken to this game quickly.

“Not at all. My thoughts are very proper when it comes to you.”

I swallow, my mind flitting to all the things he has deemed suitable. Rope burns like bracelets around my wrists, bruises blossoming on my hips, deep purple like the flowers along the garden path. I’m painfully aware of him, his lithe strength flush against my side. The layers of our festive clothes feel like no barrier at all.

Thankfully, I’ve got my thoughts under control by the time we make it to the well-lit entrance of the huge pavilion. Then we wait – there is always a lot of waiting involved on these occasions. This is a political union after all, though I was let to understand that personal feelings are also involved. As tradition dictates, the guests are announced as couples. I feel Konno shifting beside me as our turn approaches.

“Remember to breathe,” I whisper in his ear. He nods and takes my arm as he’s seen others doing, and I know we will be fine.

We step inside the pavilion as our names are announced. _Konno and Jehrem Kovdas._ I suppress a smile at the presumption. In Midcastle, no one would dream of giving our family name to a commoner, let alone announcing him before me. Konno’s face betrays nothing; he’s clearly making an effort to play along. The bow we make together is flawless.

The pavilion is already packed, and sweat starts to run down my back immediately. Layered robes and long vests are all the rage in Fallcastle. The russet and gold brocade of my coat is heavy, not helped by the layers underneath. I took great pleasure in picking out appropriate clothing despite Konno’s grumbling. It was not only to see him in something else than a stablehand’s sweaty shirt and trousers – I wouldn’t complain about those. His new clothes are lighter than mine, a flowing vest of ink-blue and silver over a tunic and a long-sleeved shirt fitted enough to reveal the definition in his arms. I wanted others to see how beautiful he is. Beautiful and mine.

Flute music and incense fill the air, almost too sharp to be pleasant. The guests are spread out along the sides of the pavilion where configurations of pillows and low chairs have been set. There isn’t enough space for everyone. Groups of people are standing close together, raising their voices to make themselves heard. It’s a familiar scene, although much less formal than I am used to. But then, this is not the court, only the wedding of a noble with minor connections to royalty.

The celebrated couple is settled on a slightly raised dais in the middle of the pavilion. They are surrounded by fragrant flowers and fruit trees in glazed pots, living things to bless their union. It looks deceptively like an evening’s escape to a garden. But the wedding crowns and red cloaks they wear remind everyone that at heart, this is a serious occasion. Perhaps more serious than they know.

I exchange a few nods and pleasantries with strangers as I steer us towards the couple. Konno is a silent shadow beside me, though he makes the effort to smile. I know how devastating the effect can be.

“May the Goddess smile upon your union,” I say with a bow as we finally manage to get to the centre of the pavilion. The couple must have heard a hundred variations of the same words this evening. The people of Fallcastle do make a show of practising religion. “Lady Arretta, Lady Irula. I bring you the blessings of Second Queen Serenna of Midcastle.”

Arretta of Nevia is lively and charming, visibly delighted to have a chance at real conversation. There is some family resemblance between her and Serenna. Irula’s features are plainer, but there is a kind of grace to her calm as her large grey eyes take in everything around her. More than anything, she looks like she is exactly where she wants to be.

“Knight Kovdas,” Arretta greets me. I don’t have a polite way of correcting her. “And your husband. I am delighted to see you here. Cousin Serenna wrote to me about you, but I have not heard from her in a long while. Why, I feared that she had deserted me entirely.”

I don’t know how much Serenna has told Arretta. Knowing her, enough to embarrass us. But there are much more important matters at hand.

“You are quite mistaken in thinking that,” I say. “Queen Serenna has had a great deal on her mind lately. We are here as her envoys to correct any negligence.” I glance around and step closer to the dais. “She sends you her love, Lady Arretta. As well as urgent news.” I hand her the letters covertly, and she slips them into the folds of her cloak.

With her on the raised seat, we are eye to eye. She nods imperceptibly. “I thank you both for your service. I wish to converse with you later, to hear more of my cousin and of other things.”

I step back and bow again at the dismissal. I am content with what I have seen in her. She will heed the warning slipped between the folds of a letter, within easy reach.

Konno offers me his arm again, and I take it with a smile. I have a feeling he is enjoying this more than he thought.

“Done?” he says quietly as we get away from the press of bodies.

“That went well. Arretta will be on her guard. Serenna insisted that I warn her.” I sigh. “Damn, I actually like them.”

Konno surprises me by kissing me there and then, in the midst of the crowd. It’s chaste, a brief brush of his lips on mine, his hand resting lightly on the back of my neck like a reminder. It leaves me breathless.

“As long as you remember me,” he says as we part. He’s flustered, but somehow he looks more comfortable in his skin. I know what he wanted to say. _Remember that you belong to me._

“I remember,” I say with a twist of a smile. I won’t ever forget, not as long as I live.

People around us are smiling, amused by the antics of newlyweds. I think we have stretched the limits of propriety enough. I lay a hand on Konno’s shoulder and head for the refreshments. Some water will be good, though it will do nothing to extinguish this slowly simmering fire.

My focus is wrenched back as I hear sounds outside the pavilion. The clink of chainmail and heavy boots, women chattering, then a commanding voice. Arretta rises and steps down from the dais, guiding her bride like a courtier. At a sign from her, a path is cleared. The flutes tone down to a quiet, intricate melody.

The Queen of Fallcastle has come to call.

KONNO

I don’t know what came over me when I kissed Jehrem in front of all these people. I didn’t question the impulse at all. It was so easy, and I was not afraid. I am more comfortable with Jehrem on a secret mission than at home. I don’t want to think about what that means, so I’m relieved when he seems to be as badly in need of a drink as I am.

The arrival of the Queen puts a stopper on that.

The only queen I have ever met is Serenna, and she is peculiar in every respect. Queen Esfir is the image of a queen from a Castles and Kings deck. She is beautiful in the way only rich people can be. The Queen’s sunset and silver hair is gathered above her head in a shimmering net. Her dress is a deep royal green, layered according to the fashion and long enough to drag on the floor. The open front shows off an underdress dotted with countless amber beads catching the light. Unlike the pair ready to greet her, Queen Esfir is wearing no crown. Instead, she has a wide golden belt wound around her hips. From the belt hangs a heavy set of ancient keys. The keys to the kingdom.

She carries it all with straight-backed ease. Her presence commands the whole room without question. People drop before her, going down on one knee, but she puts a stop that with a forbidding wave of her hand. And the people move like dolls to obey her. It’s bizarre to watch.

“This is a personal call,” Jehrem murmurs an explanation into my ear. “She doesn’t want to draw undue attention.” I feel the curve of his lips that was against mine only moments ago. “It is impossible to avoid, of course. But the Queen’s presence is favourable for the newlyweds.”

I hum in reply, leaning against him. The exchanges and withdrawals of favours are games I barely understand. But Jehrem does, and I am here because of him. “Should we do something?”

“Wait until her entourage has entered and then see if anything is out of place. I doubt the situation is as grave as Serenna made it out to be. And the Queen does have her own bodyguards. Look.”

In Queen Esfir’s wake arrives a flock of finely-dressed women, speaking freely and greeting the guests. Their task is clearly to make everyone feel at ease. The two women following a step behind the hem of the Queen’s dress are a different matter. They are armed with swords and daggers, their breastplates shining like mirrors. They would be impressive enough even without the feathered, hawk-beaked helmets which obscure their faces.

Jehrem and I exchange a look and start to circle the space, moving in opposite directions. The music has perked up again. The noise of the crowd, although more subdued than before, is still enough to strain my nerves. As much as being a squire didn’t suit me, I fall back on that training now. What would I look out for if I was guarding Jehrem’s safety?

There is the main entrance where we entered, but also several smaller ones which lead to the walled garden. Those spaces are dimly lit, and it’s hard to see anything from the inside. I resolve to check each and every one of them. I ought to do this well if I am to do it at all. I start towards the nearest side-entrance. Of course, secluded spaces draw people who want to be discreet. I get some insight on these courtiers’ view on fidelity. I did not expect having to decline so many offers in a celebration meant for married people.

I have to remind myself not to take offence. Why would I, when there are two brides about to be married and male lovers meet each other with their Queen on the other side of a fabric wall? It’s not that I’m ashamed, not anymore. But I’ve been on the defensive for so long that it’s hard to let go.

I happen upon a few couples with their clothes in states of disarray. For a moment I imagine what it would be like if we were here as guests. I could rid Jehrem of that ridiculous coat he insisted on, tell him to get down on the grass and push up all those unnecessary layers of clothing until I found bare skin, felt him hot and aching in my hand… I shake my head. Concentrate. It’s been too long since I last had him, and it’s agony to miss him while he is by my side. The sooner we are finished with this task, the sooner I will have him.

With that resolve, I head back towards the pavilion. I stop at the doorway as I notice the hush that has fallen. Queen Esfir is making a speech. The newlyweds are kneeling at her feet, their heads bowed, their deep red cloaks spread around them. Red is the colour of life, but to me it looks like they are kneeling in a pool of blood. A chill goes down my spine.

“I, Queen Esfir of Fallcastle, witness this union and give it my blessing. As Our Twin Goddess teaches us, two is better than one. Two is complete. Together you have decided to take that step. Although I give you my blessing, it is you who have blessed our kingdom. This marriage proves that old anger and strife can be overcome. My heartfelt wish is that all the kingdom can be unified in peace and prosperity…”

She stops. I wait for her to continue, but instead her hand goes to her throat. Slowly as if in a dream she sinks to her knees, controlled even then. It is like watching the fall of a statue – or a goddess.

“Guards!” she snaps hoarsely, then succumbs to a fit of coughing. I noticed her voice growing quieter as she spoke but thought nothing of it, as I saw no other sign of weakness. The bodyguards rush to the Queen, one of then digging something out of her pouch – medicine? But then she too falters, and the vial falls out of her suddenly slack hand.

I watch in horror as the celebrating crowd deteriorates. Most of the guests were inside to hear the speech. They stood up at their Queen’s command, and now they fall down with her. My head feels heavy and muddled. It is as if the whole room has been affected by one of those fits of choking terror I still sometimes have. I back away into the garden and take a few deep breaths. It clears my head.

Breathing. It must be something in the air. I remember the cloying smell of incense, the golden incense burners spread around the pavilion.

Then it hits me that Jehrem could be still inside.

Whoever did this will make their next move soon.

I feel sick. I am only here because Jehrem was bored with our life in Surro. Because I wasn’t enough. And now that I am here, I must do something. I have to see this through.

With a wet scarf covering my mouth and nose, I dart inside the pavilion. I imagine this is what a battlefield looks like: bodies lying like broken toys on top of each other, some moving, others still. Bile rises in my throat as I pick my way through them. I don’t see Jehrem. I want nothing more than to find him and get out of here. But the best I can do is to get to the Queen. She’s the one the enemy wants. If I can get her out, they won’t have a reason to hurt the others. Or so I hope.

I also hope that whatever drug they used is not lethal.

Queen Esfir is lying with her head on the dais, the newlywed pair at her feet like sleeping children. I touch her shoulder, then shake her firmly. She stirs, her eyes open a bit and narrow at me.

“Your Majesty,” I say quickly, tripping on the words, “we must get out of here. The air is poisoned.”

“I gathered as much,” she grinds out painfully. I’m impressed that she is still capable of words, even more when she gets up, though I’m carrying most of her weight. We stagger towards one of the entrances, but it’s torturously slow.

And doomed to fail, as soon dark-clad figures appear at each entrance.

My heart sinks. There are five of them. They’re carrying daggers.

JEHREM

I have time to curse myself for not realising what was going on. I almost make it to the nearest entrance before vertigo hits me and I fall unceremoniously to the ground. I watch through unfocused eyes as the drug does its work on the rest of the room. Now I recognise the strong smell, mixed with herbs and flowers to mask it. At least I know I won’t die from it.

There are plenty of other ways to die here.

I crawl slowly to the entrance to get some clean air into my lungs. The assassins will be here soon, if not already.

I freeze as I sense someone standing over me. I let my body go slack and keep my eyes closed. Booted feet pass by my head.

When the footsteps recede, I open my eyes cautiously and take in the scene before me. Trained as I am for almost anything, there are some things you can’t prepare for.

Five assassins have entered the pavilion from different entrances. They are closing in on their prey in an even circle. And inside that circle stands Queen Esfir – leaning on Konno. Dread washes over me. There isn’t enough time.

I can hear the Queen, her voice hoarse but clear.

“What do you want? Announce yourselves at once!”

The figures stop. She is still playing the game and moving the pieces, though not for long. From the movement I gather that they are baring their faces.

“I truly believed we were past this,” she says, sounding more tired than afraid.

“We’ll never be ruled by a murderous witch!” one of them spits out.

“And yet you are ready to resort to murder.”

“You murdered your own husband. The leader of our clan. You owe us your blood.”

They all sound young. Spurred on by their elders’ need for vengeance or old dreams of glory? It doesn’t matter. Not when there is bared steel between them and Konno. They are getting closer.

I grit my teeth and struggle to my feet. The world lurches. My mind goes quiet, assessing numbers and angles. One of the assassins has his back to me, but I can’t cover the distance. There’s nothing for it. I take a couple of running steps and throw my dagger with a shout.

The noise makes all of them turn towards me as I fall to one knee. And that’s what saves my throw. My aim is shit, that’s why I never do this, but the assassin moves just enough to be in the way of my dagger. It sinks into his thigh, and he falls down with a scream.

Unfortunately, my plan to draw them to me fails. They are too focused on their objective. Weaponless, I’m not enough of a threat. The nausea is hitting me again. I can do nothing but watch powerlessly as the scene unfolds.

Konno and Esfir have backed up against the dais. They have no enemies at their back, but four before them. Konno still hasn’t drawn his weapon. He stands before the Queen with his hands fisted like he is rooted to the spot. One of the assassins says something to him, maybe tells him to get out of the way, but he only gets a glare in answer.

Then everything happens at once. An assassin tries to stab Konno, who takes a hold of his dagger hand and wrenches it aside. While the assassin is exposed, Queen Esfir pulls a delicate bone-handled knife from her hair and buries it in his throat. The man goes down with a sickening wet sound. Now Konno has drawn his dagger and goes for another man, who is frozen in surprise. He manages to graze Konno’s arm, but gets a dagger to his stomach in turn.

There are only two assassins left. Driven by a blood feud as they are, I fear they will not back down. Konno is covering the Queen again. The front of her dress is soaked in blood. She looks furious rather than afraid. The sleeve of Konno’s shirt is turning red.

The two assassins rush at them. My nails dig into my thighs as I watch them, unable to do anything at all. To my surprise, one of them trips. A short figure gets up amidst the bodies.

“You goat-fucking bastards will not ruin my wedding! If you have killed my wife, I will hunt you down in the caves under the earth and kill you again!”

I watch wide-eyed as sweet, calm Irula pounces on the man and hits him in the face with a fruit-knife. And keeps on hitting.

The remaining assassin is understandably distracted by the sudden appearance of this ferocious beast. His hesitation gives Konno the perfect opportunity to disarm him and wrestle him to the ground. The Queen hands Konno a cloth belt from her dress to tie him up, though I believe the dislocated knee would do the trick. They pull Irula gently away from the dead man and confiscate the gory fruit knife.

Three dead assassins and two witnesses. Not bad at all, I think as the world starts to spin again. Konno is approaching me, looking dazed and bloody and marvellously alive. I smile at him before darkness rushes over me.

KONNO

In many ways, a private audience with the Queen makes me more nervous than facing a handful of assassins. It feels odd that we are the heroes of the day, when I am surprised that I was not paralysed in the face of danger. Old memories of fighting for my life still sometimes wake me up in the night. But it turned out none of us were helpless.

Jehrem is holding my hand, pale against his darker skin. He raises our hands and presses a kiss on the back on my hand.

“It’ll be all right, hero,” he says with a grin, but his eyes are soft. “You won’t need a dagger for this confrontation.”

I mutter something unintelligible. He’s distracting me on purpose. Everything about him is distracting. I wish this was over already. Then we are ushered in and I have no more time to fret.

Queen Esfir is very pleased with us. Arretta and Irula have explained our role in the events, as well as Second Queen Serenna’s involvement. The newlyweds are both fine even if shaken. Irula has discovered a streak of fierce protectiveness and won’t let Arretta out of her sight. The Queen looks no worse for wear aside from a small scrape on her cheek. It only makes her look more imposing. She meets us with a quill in hand, standing before a table full of neatly organised stacks of papers.

“I must send my regards to Queen Serenna. She appears to be very astute, even if the King of Midcastle proved to be something of a disappointment.” I blink at her frankness; such words would count as treason at home. Everywhere, royalty play by different rules. “Closer relations between our countries could benefit us all.”

“If Your Majesty has need of messengers, we are at your service,” Jehrem says.

She gives us an appraising look. “Indeed I may. And I thank you for your service thus far, for without your aid I might have joined my husband on the fields of the Goddess. His clan has been a thorn in my side for a long time. What they want is power, not justice. But I am certain you are perceptive enough to have realised this.”

“It was my conclusion, Your Majesty,” Jehrem says smoothly. I realise that neither of them comments on the truth of the assailants’ claims. Queen Esfir is favourable towards us, but she is impossible to read. I suppose it is better not to know.

“And you in particular, Konno of Nasova,” she says, fixing her piercing eyes on me. “You did more than anyone else to save my life. Even at a risk to your own life and that of your husband. Or is it lover?”

So much for our cover. I swallow, not knowing what to say.

“I am familiar with the customs of Midcastle,” the Queen continues as though she was describing the weather. “It was highly unlikely that their envoys would be married. To each other, that is. Though I must congratulate your scribe on his beautiful work; the marriage documents could fool anyone. I understand why the ruse was necessary, of course.”

“We didn’t lie, Your Majesty,” I say. I can’t believe I have opened my mouth, but I struggle on. “That is. We are together, even if no one else accepts it.”

“Is that so?” She looks us both over.

Jehrem holds out his hand with a hint of a smile, and I take it. Such a simple gesture, yet it seems to tell her everything.

“Then I offer you my congratulations and condolences both. I have a feeling your lives have not been simple. But whose is?” There is something sharp in her smile before her whole demeanour changes, like winter turning to autumn. “This is not a time for such thoughts. I wish to reward you. You showed great courage and helped my subjects find theirs. Konno of Nasova, you saved the life of the Queen of Fallcastle. What would you ask of her?”

I did not expect her to address me, nor I did not expect to get a choice in the matter. I seem to have lost my voice as if I had breathed in the paralysing fumes. Merely speaking with her is turning my world upside down.

“I only ask for your blessing, Your Majesty.” I say the only thing that comes to mind. I glance at Jehrem in despair, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Queen Esfir smiles. “That you shall have. And you will find out that it is no small thing.”

When we are finally safely outside the royal palace, I let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Jehrem, tell me how badly I made a fool out of myself.”

“Not at all,” he says, his voice full of affection. “I think the Queen was very pleased with you.”

“You think so?”

“There are few safe answers to such questions. You picked a good one.”

“I couldn’t really think of anything to ask for,” I admit.

“And that is one of the reasons I love you,” he says and kisses me on the busy street, right in front of the royal guards, in sight of whoever might be passing by.

The Queen’s blessings include bundles of expensive fabrics and jewels delivered to our room in the _Gifts of the Goddess_. There is a bone-handled dagger with the Queen’s crest in a green velvet sheath, and a set of similarly decorated throwing knives. There are also a few bottles of zeokin wine. Jehrem picks up a knife, balancing it in his hand. I can tell there will be practice when we get home.

“You will not mix wine and knife-throwing,” I warn him. He gives me an innocent look that would convince no one. Jehrem is as far from innocent as can be. “And spare our doors from target practice.”

“When we get home,” he says. “Of course.” There’s something odd in his voice.

My stomach drops. “We talked about this already. You don’t want to stay here, do you?”

Among Queen Esfir’s gifts were citizenship papers and passes allowing us travel anywhere in the kingdom. We really could stay in Fallcastle if we liked. I almost wish she hadn’t done that. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I miss Surro. My life is there. With Jehrem. But is it really what he wants?

He shrugs. “I could get used to it. Fallcastle would mean getting more involved in politics again, though. Queen Esfir is too pragmatic not to try and use us. I’m not sure I want to go back to that. My home is with you, wherever that is. But you know what returning to Surro means.”

I swallow. That’s something I didn’t want to think about too much. The secrecy and lies, the knowledge that our relationship will never be acknowledged. It’s not illegal as such, not when I’m not Jehrem’s squire anymore. That doesn’t mean it’s accepted. My family still doesn’t know the truth, though they probably choose not to. “Business partners” is a flimsy lie that always makes my father frown.

It’s cruel, really, to let me have a taste of what it would be like to love each other openly. I didn’t expect it would affect me so much. This false marriage was even worse of an idea than I anticipated. My eyes prickle as I pull the marriage certificate out of my pocket. I’ve been carrying it with me all this time like a charm. It’s time to let go.

I head to the table where a set of candles burns. My eyes are burning, too, as I bring the documents close to the flames.

“Konno, you might not want to do that,” Jehrem says.

I turn to stare at him.

JEHREM

I am a coward of the worst order. I’m the first to admit it. Ever since we left Midcastle, the marriage certificate burned in my pocket. I would have been fine with lies and deception. The trouble was that the documents were real.

When I was researching the royal archives of Midcastle for the Clause of Ilseon which saved me at the time, I realised how much forgotten and outdated legislation was buried there. And when this task was pushed upon us, it occurred to me that it might not hurt to sneak into the archives to see if certain outlandish rumours had any truth to them.

It turned out that they did. Among records dated two hundred years ago, I found a document detailing a union between the households of two men or women. The Pact of Joining was precise down to the wording of the contract. In practice, what it described was a marriage. The legislation had not been implemented in a century, but neither had it been repealed.

I sat staring at the dusty document for a very long time in a secluded corner of the archives. Everything I had learned about the history of our kingdom suddenly took on a different light. Laws and morals I had taken for granted – even when I rebelled against them – were not set in stone. My hand shook as I made a careful copy of the text. Then I hunted down a very particular scribe with cobwebs still in my hair.

When I finally had the precious papers in my possession, I was struck by the enormity of what I’d done. The only forgery in the documents was the Midcastle seal, and that would hold up to scrutiny. They were real enough. In theory, I could take them to any town clerk as a proof of our marriage.

I had gone and got us married without Konno’s knowledge.

I should have told him as soon as I got home. I should have told him on the road. I know he hates being kept in the dark more than anything. I had a hundred chances to tell him, and yet I lacked the courage. The longer I waited, the harder it got. I’d never asked him to marry me. What if he didn’t want it? We’d lacked words to define our relationship. Then we arrived in Fallcastle and all the madness unfolded, and I never had time to tell him that I’d picked a word for us already.

I have never seen Konno this angry.

“Jehrem Kovdas, you are unbelievable. I mean it. How can I believe a word coming out of your mouth? You promised me no more lies! Did you lose all sense of honour along with your precious title?”

The words are spat out, all the sharper for the truth in them. I want to explain, to fix this somehow.

“I didn’t exactly lie.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

His glare is withering. “No. You just went behind my back, did what you wanted as usual, and forgot to ask me. You did not tell me that _we’ve been married all this time_.”

His rage is boiling hot, but now his blue eyes grow cold as frosted steel.

“Did you want to make a fool of me? When were you planning to tell me what the real joke was?”

There is something almost regal in his outrage, the control he shows when he gets like this. It makes me want to get down on my knees, but he would not like that. Not now. This is all going wrong, he is withdrawing from me, and I can’t take it. His cold contempt hurts me more than any words ever could.

“I was afraid,” I manage to say. I won’t meet his eyes. I don’t want to know what I’ve lost with my foolishness.

There is a moment of silence.

“Of what?” Still that distrustful tone I thought I’d never hear again.

“That you wouldn’t want it,” I say quietly, staring at the candles. “It was cowardly of me. I should have told you. You deserve better.”

“Damn right I do.”

My eyes sting. I won’t lie to myself it is because I’ve been staring at the light for too long.

“It can all be undone. Not what I did, I don’t mean that – but the marriage was not entered into any records at Midcastle yet. We hold the only proof of it.” I set my copy of the marriage certificate on the table. Our names stare at me mockingly. “Destroy them.” I force the words out. “You don’t want this, so destroy them.”

I can’t take his silence. I have to face him, even if it is to see him staring at me in disgust.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Konno says. His long fingers brush over the papers. He looks – thoughtful. “ _You_ wanted this, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” I can’t describe how badly, what I felt when I found that ancient pact in the archives, when I realised he could be mine in the eyes of all the world. I acted thoughtlessly out of a desperate longing.

Some of this must show on my face, because his features soften. “And this is your way of proposing.”

I dare to meet his eyes.

“It seems I have an idiot for a husband.”

He smiles, slow and beautiful in the candlelight. It’s like the sun coming out after a storm. Can I truly be lucky enough to have him even after all this?

“I – have a husband?” I say like the idiot he tells me I am. “You want this?”

Konno breathes out, and it dispels the remnants of rage left in him. “I have wanted this ever since I fell in love with you. I want you. I want to keep you, for now and for all the years to come.”

A grin breaks out on my face, I want to laugh and cry all at once. His choice of words is like a marriage vow. I’ve never heard anything more eloquent.

I reach out for him, I can’t help it, I need to touch him and make sure this is real. He comes to me, straddles me in the chair and kisses me breathless. His hand on the back of my neck is as proprietary as it should be. I touch everything within reach with reverence, run my hands over his bare arms and follow the curve of his spine. I know where we are headed, but for now it is tender and comforting.

“Did I get it right?” Konno asks me as we are catching our breath, his head resting on my shoulder. His arms are locked around my waist, grounding, possessive. “What I said before.”

It takes a moment before my head clears. “It was perfect,” I whisper into his dark hair. “You’re much better at proposing than me.”

He scoffs against my neck. “That doesn’t take much.”

“You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?”

“Never. But I don’t want to forget it, either. I want to remember everything about tonight. I want to make sure you remember.”

The tension between us has shifted. Blue eyes meet mine. His desire is commanding, it doesn’t let me look away. I have no doubt he will be true to his word. He has never been anything but honest when it comes to this.

KONNO

I wonder if a wedding night is supposed to look like this. The candles are burning low. Jehrem is laid out on the bed, his hands tied with a strip of the expensive gold brocade gifted to us by the Queen. His skin is already marked with bruises and red lines left by my nails, his cock is hard and on display between his spread legs. He looks so open and trusting, his eyes already hazy with lust.

I suppose this is us. And that is as it should be.

The night stretches on as I drive him to the brink of bliss again and again, only to deny him. He curses and begs but follows my command. I could have tied up his cock, too, to stop him from coming. I have done it before. But tonight I want to watch him fight against his own body. I want to see him choose to obey me time and time again. Controlling his pleasure is a heady rush, my cock is hard and heavy against my thigh, and I stroke myself as though he were not right there, straining towards me.

“Konno, please.” Jehrem’s despair is beautiful. Even more so because I am the only one who gets to see it.

“What is it?” My smile makes him whimper.

“Anything. Anything you want to give me.”

He doesn’t even ask me to let him come. Is it out of guilt or is he too far gone? Guilt should have no place in our bed. I brush damp hair away from his face, caress his cheek. He turns towards my hand and kisses my palm. The simple gesture makes my heart ache with tenderness. I want to give him what he wants.

So I ask, “Do you want me to fuck you or do you want this?”

I show him the worn leather belt from my travel clothes. It came with me all the way from Surro. From home.

He swallows, eyes flicking from my cock to the belt. “Can I have both?”

It’s my turn to groan.

I tell him to turn around and get his knees under him, then push his head down until he rests on his elbows. I like the way the position shows the expanse of his back, the shifting muscles and the well-mapped scars. I run my hands down his ass, lingering there for a moment, and urge him to spread his thighs. My knuckles brush against his balls and he moans, everything in him straining for release.

I wrap the belt around my hand and run the free end down his spine and the cleft of his ass, caress the insides of his thighs with the rough leather. He is shivering, biting his lip, watching me with dark eyes. He looks drunk. I suppose we both are. Drunk on this.

The world narrows down to a series of sensations. The weight of the leather in my hand. The sound it makes as it hits bare skin. The choked-off sounds Jehrem lets escape as he takes it. The marks blooming on his back and ass, red and lovely like his face, which is pressed against the sheets. His skin feels hot under my hand as I take in my work. I have no doubt this is another thing a knight should never allow. No wonder it gets to him. And I’m not finished yet.

I move on to the insides of his thighs, more careful with the belt now. It is still enough to paint the vulnerable skin with stripes. I drink in the noises I draw from him like fine wine. He is begging me when I pause, to stop or to go on, I doubt he knows which. It doesn’t matter. The decisions are mine tonight. I stroke his ass gently before spreading his cheeks, the belt still in my grip. He doesn’t even tense, though he must know where this is going. He knows me, after all. I run the coarse leather over his asshole and he moans into the sheets. I hit him there, right where he is most vulnerable, and his whole body jerks. He lets out the most wonderful wounded noise. I want to draw out more of them, I want to listen to his cries until he has no voice left, I want to be the one to steal it instead of poison fumes.

When I stop, Jehrem is trembling all over, his eyes shut, his eyelashes damp. I put the belt away and touch him, let my hands run all over him, light but sure. He comes back to me slowly, blinking away tears I rarely get to see. I bury my hands in his hair and kiss him over and over. When I lean back, I see a smile in the quirk of his mouth.

“Fuck me?” he asks, his eyes lust-blown. It’s not a plea or a demand, only a question. I think he would accept anything I decided right now.

“I promised,” I say, my voice rough like I had been the one screaming.

I turn him over and he hisses as his back hits the sheets. I watch his grimace turn into a grin. I don’t understand him, but I love him like this. I love how he opens up for my fingers even though it draws even more hurt noises from him. He tries to fuck himself on my hand, wanting and shameless. The night has been long, and he isn’t one for delaying satisfaction like me. I add more oil from the vial on the nightstand and finally push my cock into him. He cries out, pain and pleasure warring in his golden-brown eyes. I keep looking into them as I fuck him, rough as I like, rough as he likes it. I see nothing but love and surrender.

Then I see nothing more because I close my eyes and kiss him again. Pleasure catches up with me and there is no stopping it. I whisper permission into his ear. I hear his sharp breath.

And we both come apart.

The candles have almost died. I lie on the bed, catching my breath. I feel oddly like the world should have changed somehow, but I can hear the same nightly noises, faraway laughter and the faint rustle of glimmerflies. Yet my world has been changed in a most crucial way.

I turn to look at Jehrem and see him staring at me. He glances pointedly at his tied wrists. I open the knot and he stretches, then settles on his side against me, his large hand splayed on my stomach. I know there will be red circles around his wrists tomorrow, even if I can’t see them in the dim light.

“Do you think this counts as consummating the marriage?” Jehrem’s voice is wrecked but contented, honey to my ears.

“If this doesn’t, I don’t know what does. Husband.”

We share a laugh together in the dark.

“I like saying that,” Jehrem says thoughtfully. “Husband. Does that mean I should get you a ring? Arm-rings are a tradition here for married men.”

“If you like. And what should I get you?”

He leans over me to kiss me. “You should know. Anything you like.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are at last! I hope you enjoyed the dramatics of these two as much as I did. Thank you for requesting this fandom - it was a joy to get to play with this setting ♥


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